I did so--believing in the captain--thinking he really
cared for me--I gave up everything for him. And then--"
Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor
of lilacs in the room.
"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to
notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in
India a mere memory--he seemed no longer to--to care for me.
Then--last Thursday morning--he called on me to tell me that he
was through; that he would never see me again--in fact, that he
was to marry a girl of his own people who had been waiting--"
The woman looked piteously about at us.
"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life held
for me--given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke
of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to
his rooms--went to plead with him--to beg, almost on my knees?
It was no use. He was done with me--he said that over and over.
Overwhelmed with blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife
from the table and plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled
with remorse. I--"
"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of your
subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you,
Countess. You tell it better each time.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86